Quintspinner

by Dianne Greenlay

  She slowed her breath to match his and returned her concentration to her hand. William’s hand felt warm and strong overtop of hers. She tried to slightly relax her hold on the knife’s handle, letting the slow pressure of his fingers guide her grip upon it.

  “That’s better,” his voice was husky yet soft in her ear. “Now open your eyes and focus on your target.” He raised her arm and hand with his own and gently bounced it a time or two, as though re-determining its weight.

  “Now!” he barked and flicked her arm and wrist in perfect symmetry with his own.

  This time the blade twisted in three perfect circles before sinking directly into the middle of the target.

  “There you are! Well done!” William cheered, reluctantly letting his half embrace of her go. His nostrils were still full of her scent. Tess stared at the target, her face shining. “Oh! That was good, wasn’t it?” she squealed.

  “Very good!” William cheered in agreement. He returned Tess’s smile. Her excitement was contagious.

  “Yes. Well done, my dear.” A strong combination of sharp perspiration, tobacco, and brandy greeted them just as the words did.

  Edward Graham.

  “I see you take a great interest in your student, Mr. Taylor,” Edward’s voice dripped with hostile sarcasm. Edward slipped his arm around Tess’s shoulders and clutched her tightly to him, nearly pulling her off her feet. “I appreciate your efforts, and I’m sure my fiancé does as well,” he continued, hardening his grip around Tess’s shoulders. “But there is no need to overstep your assignment. Do I make myself clear to you both?” His black eyes seemed to have no irises at all, only huge pupils, dark and deadly.

  He seeks to own you. Be very careful, the silent mentor in Tess’s head suddenly cautioned.

  “Overstep?” Tess glared up at Edward, her belligerence resurfacing. And when did you get well enough to come out here? She silently pondered this, surprised at the strength in his grip. She shrugged her shoulders as if to loosen a disagreeable shawl but his hold on her only tightened. Edward stared down at her.

  “You know how to breathe, surely,” he taunted her. “And as you’ve hit your target,” he scowled at William, “your lessons with my betrothed are done. Forever. At this time I have some lessons for her.”

  With their engagement being common knowledge, Edward had noticed that the doctor seemed unconcerned if Tess were occasionally alone with Edward in his quarters. Now, seated across from him at the small table in the privacy of his cabin, Tess held Edward securely in her gaze and launched her direct inquiry before he had a chance to start their conversation.

  “Where did you obtain this ring?”

  Momentary surprise flickered across his face as Tess’s question hung in the air between them. She had barely spoken to him at all during his period of convalescence. Yet now …. Her confidence has grown.

  Edward studied the lines of her face, trying to determine an answer that would contain an acceptable amount of detail. He had questions of his own to ask her and he doubted that Tess was any match for him in the area of obtaining information, even from a reluctant informant.

  “You shall have your answer to that after you reply in kind. I should like very much to hear how you came to have the tourmaline ring in your possession. Blue tourmalines are very rare, you know.” What happened after I left the old woman’s place?

  Tess pressed her lips together. She was nervous, Edward could tell. She’s fidgeting with the ring. She couldn’t possibly know the power available to her ….

  “I have no story to tell,” Tess began. “I acquired it in a simple boring fashion.” She glanced down at the ring and then back up to Edward’s face.

  Edward’s eyes locked onto hers, staring back intently at her. It seemed to him that Tess was choosing her words carefully

  “It was a gift to me, a remnant from a brief but intense friendship.” Tess lips lifted in a small smile. “A gift,” she repeated. “Nothing more.”

  Edward’s eyebrows arched slightly, briefly exposing his surprise at her words, and then his face resumed its neutral expression.

  “Such a handsome ring as that is hardly a simple gift,” he argued, “although I can believe that someone would easily find one so beautiful and clever as yourself to be worthy of such an endowment.” His voice was smooth, too smooth, but Tess would not miss the underlying misdoubt in his statement.

  “I am intrigued and wonder who it was that gave you, now my fiancée, such a priceless item, and in fact I believe the details of your complete story would be of great interest to me.” There was no mistaking the challenge in his voice.

  “And why would that be?” she charged in return.

  He studied her face for a few silent moments as he again decided how much to reveal to her.

  “I was briefly acquainted with it in the past,” he began slowly, “and I had believed it to have been lost to its previous owner through an untimely sequence of events.” He paused, then suddenly reached out, capturing her left hand with his own. Tess pulled back but her hand remained firmly caught in his grip. Ignoring her recoil, Edward drew his fingertips lightly across the surface of both rings. He pulled her closer to him and held her hand up, brushing it across his own cheek.

  “Tell me, Tess, what do you know of the significance of these rings? Of their powers?”

  Tess dropped her eyes to her lap. What does she know? How did she get the ring? Get on with the telling of it! Edward took a long calming breath. To rush her now would only make her defensive and wary. Wait. Give her time. She raised her eyes to meet his gaze and for long moments she and Edward stared at each other as though trying to outguess the other’s next move in this mental game of chess. The creaks and groans of the ship, the muted shouts of the crew, and the cracks of the sails in the winds, punctuated the conversational silence between them.

  “I think that you know more about them than I do,” Tess finally spoke aloud.

  Edward leaned across the table, closer still, his face continuing to be a mask, showing no hint of threat or anger.

  “Tell me how you came into possession of the tourmaline ring,” he urged her again, “and I will, in turn, tell you–nay, teach you–all that I know about them both.”

  Tess pulled her hand from Edward’s grasp and let it fall protectively to her lap, buried amidst the folds of her skirt. She was nervously fingering the rings on her hand again, and he wondered what he could say to persuade her to use him as a confidante. Why does she hesitate? What reason would she have to fear me?

  A slow look of calm and confidence settled over her and Edward knew success was forthcoming. She had made her decision. She wanted to know what he knew.

  Needed to know.

  Tess struggled to put her questions into some kind of logical order. The rings’ powers? Yes. She was curious about that. How did he come to have the healing emeralds? That too, was a puzzle. But more importantly, she put one question at the top of her list, above all the others.

  What was it about them that had been worth killing for? Worth dying for?

  It was what she knew about Edward and the tourmaline ring that had kept her silent to this point. It was what Edward knew about her and the tourmaline ring that urged her to begin speaking.

  Tess casually splayed her left hand back up on the tabletop to focus Edward’s attention on the rings. As she began her story, Tess slowly slipped her right hand down the outside of her skirts to her lower shin and noiselessly slipped the small dirk from its sheath fastened just above her ankle by two red silk strands. She was grateful for William’s lessons. The small knife’s handle, fashioned out of polished bone, had come to feel as comfortable as an old friend’s handshake. Familiar. Warm and smooth in her palm. She just wished it wasn’t so headstrong in its flight path.

  Best to be ready for anything. Just in case.

  “The ring was given to me by an old woman,” Tess began quietly, her eyes never leaving Edward’s face. “With her dying breath, she gave it to m
e.”

  Edward’s features tightened in confusion, then hardened in dawning recognition.

  “The old seer? The one they called the Crone?” he asked unable to conceal the astonishment in his voice.

  Oh my God! This is it! Tess thought, and she sucked in a large, shuddering breath. I’m making my own confession to the executioner.

  “Yes,” she blurted out. “That’s the one!” Under the table, she squeezed the handle of the dirk in her hand, running the pad of her thumb lightly over the sharp edge of its blade, reassuring herself of its potential.

  “I was there, in the back room, when you paid your last visit.”

  Edward’s dark eyes blackened further in mounting anger. His eyebrows knotted together and his jaws clenched.

  “You … you were there?” he hissed.

  Tess glared back, her own mouth silently set in a belligerent grimace, as her heart continued beating wildly against her chest wall.

  Edward’s simmering fury was palpable in the air.

  “You!” he repeated, shaking his head slowly from side to side, as though he could not believe his own conclusion.

  “You … attacked me. It was … you.” It was a statement, no longer a question requiring any confirmation.

  “You attacked her!” Tess spat out her own accusation. “How could you!” She shuddered with her own rage. “She was just an old woman. No threat to you!”

  Edward snorted. “Do you have any idea of the value, of the power of the rings? Their ability to corrupt is equal to their ability to promote!” he snarled. “Yes, I know this first hand–even I was overcome with greed!

  “My emerald ring was a poor fit on me and therefore not dependable for me. Weak in its supposed power to heal. Not even with certain–adjustments–that I made, was it satisfactory on me!” His hand slid over his upper left chest and he scowled. “And what need of the power to heal did I have anyway?

  “But hers!” His eyes shone even in their strange blackness, sending a cold chill down Tess’s spine. “Hers was the tourmaline spinner! Tourmaline! It was mined in the days of ancient peoples and a new supply of this gem has never been found since. Do you understand? So very rare! It becomes charged with power when it is exposed to heat–that is why, when it is handled, it seems to glow!

  “Its power is that of prophesy. Now that would have been useful to me! Its assistance would have enabled me to guide those in high places, those with the power to change the course of history, to make certain choices!” His eyes narrowed as he continued. “I could have molded outcomes that would have affected governments, countries, whole populations!”

  “You attacked an old, defenseless woman over a piece of jewelry, for your own personal gain!” Tess’s accusation interrupted Edward’s tirade. His brow furrowed in puzzlement.

  “Personal gain? Perhaps, as a corollary. But can one as young, as sheltered as you, grasp the enormous consequences of having one’s monarch choose to spend a larger portion of his country’s taxes in areas that would strengthen its trading position? To be able to help him decide with a new level of certainty which wars would be worthy to fund and which would not? Or what about which decrees to make to keep the population satisfied and loyal, to avoid civil unrest? What price could you put on that?” He broke off from his rant and closed his eyes.

  Tess hoped that he had a recollection of the tiny stone room, with the old woman’s face floating tauntingly behind his closed eyelids. Yes! Recall those horrid details. May they haunt you forever!

  Edward opened his eyes, but his stare was distant. “The ring’s power had to be passed on. To one who could use it for the good of our country. She was the greedy one, using it to satisfy the curiosity of the pathetic rich, receiving only a few coins in exchange, squandering its power.” He glowered at the memory and shook his head again.

  “Even so, I never expected that she would go so far to keep it from me … that she would cut her own fingers off!”

  “What?” Tess gasped.

  “Yes!” Edward’s face snapped back towards Tess’s. His voice shook, partly in revulsion and partly in morbid admiration. “The foolish old woman grabbed a blade and severed her own fingers! Right in front of me! She was about to throw them and the ring into her hearth’s fire!” He glared at Tess, his chest heaving with the ferocity of the telling of the story.

  “When I reached out to stop her, she twisted out of my grip and crashed backward onto the floor. And before I could help her, we were– I was–attacked from behind. He reached up and gingerly touched the dent on the back of his skull.

  She cut her own fingers off? Tess contemplated this in shocked confusion. She maimed herself? Then it was an accident!

  “I suppose you know the rest of my adventure.” Edward’s voice intruded into Tess’s dazed thoughts. “Now it’s your turn. How did she come to give you the ring?” His emphasis on the word ‘give’ revealed his disbelief and suggested to her that he, like her father, assumed that she had stolen it.

  “It’s true!” Tess persisted. “She gave it–or rather, told me to find it and keep it. She insisted.”

  Tess hesitated as she saw skepticism cloud his eyes. She paused briefly then continued, delivering each of her next words with deliberate clarity.

  “She called me … a Quintspinner.”

  The uncertainty in Edward’s eyes turned into incredulity.

  “Wh-why … why would she have done that?” He stumbled over his words, his calm façade of control shattering with this new revelation. His eyes widened even as his gaze upon her intensified.

  “Because of this!” Tess retorted and angrily flipped back the heavy plait of hair from the side of her neck. At the same time, she pulled the high collar of her blouse down to her collarbone in one smooth movement.

  Edward gaped at the exposed flesh of her neck. Ever so slowly, he reached out and touched her birthmark, softly rubbing his fingertips over it as if to assure himself that the mark was really there, that it was authentic and had not been painted on in some manner.

  “A Quintspinner!” he marveled in a soft whisper.

  At once his demeanor changed, and his hand lingered upon her skin, his warm fingertips skimming lightly up along the curve of her jaw, then fluttering over the tip of her ear before delicately, slowly, descending back down over her cheekbone and finally tracing the curved outline of her lips.

  In spite of her lingering distaste for the man Tess shivered under his touch. It was as if his fingertips had left a shower of delicious sparks trailing along her skin. How could simple touch, even from him, feel so intense? The Crone’s words drifted back to her and she remembered something about the rings and the wearer’s senses. Her breath quickened as he stood and stepped beside her, his fingers lacing through her hair, gripping it, and pulling her face against his.

  “You are the one, Quintspinner,” he murmured into her ear, his lips as soft and warm against her skin as his fingers had been. He slid his other hand across the back of her waist, and then down, cradling her curves with his hand. Goosebumps blossomed along Tess’s arms and neck, and she shivered again in spite of the trapped heat of the room.

  Edward’s breathing, too, was raw. He pulled Tess tightly to him, and her arms reflexively braced against his shoulders.

  The forgotten knife she had been holding clattered loudly onto the floorboards, bouncing dully upon the wooden surface. Instantly Edward sprang back in alarm, his instincts suddenly on guard, the moment of passion broken.

  “What’s this?” Bending to the floor, he scooped the small weapon up and looked questioningly into Tess’s face. Tess was staring back at him with a mixture of defiance and fear. He hesitated only a moment before handing the knife back to Tess. Tess’s arms remained still, hanging stiffly at her sides, her eyes locked on Edward’s face.

  For several heartbeats neither of them moved. Finally, Edward inhaled deeply and let out a sigh of resignation.

  “You nearly killed me at the Crone’s with your blow to my skull
, and once again in sick bay when you hesitated so long in making your choice to heal me. I suppose that I could possibly survive a third attempt, should you be so inclined …” and he motioned again for her to take the knife.

  Tess took her own deep breath and slowly shook her head, her eyes never straying from his face.

  “Well then, I’ll leave it here, shall I? In case you should change your mind,” he added with a wry smile as he laid the thin blade and handle on the edge of the table.

  “Now where were we?” His eyes smoldered as he wrapped her once again in his arms.

  Somewhere, dimly in her mind that was once again distracted by his velvety touch, three temporarily forgotten questions nudged to break free from her subconscious.

  What do you know of this Spinner legend, Edward Graham? How did you come by your ring and having one, do you, an educated man, truly believe in the possibility of their powers? And her third silent inquiry: how would being in William’s arms compare to this?

  The words forming these questions were suffocated, snuffed out before they could be uttered, as Edward lowered his lips upon her own, his tongue delicately tracing the edge of her mouth. His own mouth moved against hers with some urgency and she felt herself responding as she kissed him back. His hands moved slowly over her shoulders, engaging gooseflesh once again with his light touch. Bracing her against his body with one hand, he cupped her breast with the other, and felt her nipple harden in response to his touch through the layers of the soft cloth of her bodice. Surprised and caught off guard at the boldness of his touch, Tess stiffened and gasped as he continued to explore her flesh. Her body began to shake–

  The urgent pounding on the cabin’s door made them both jump.

  “Yes?” Edward called out, his word more of a harsh bark, not bothering to conceal his annoyance at the untimely interruption.

  “Beggin’ your pardon, Sir! So sorry for the intrusion!” The voice carried quite clearly through the door and Tess recognized it as that of William’s. In spite of his words, he did not sound the least bit sorry.